


i wanna fill your fantasy

by leapylion3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gift Fic, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leapylion3/pseuds/leapylion3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter in the armoury goes differently than Jon had originally planned. </p><p>(Alternatively, a Karstark always pays her debts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna fill your fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round three of Smutty Westeros for the LJ user bastardofdorne. The prompt was: Alys visits Jon one cold night and offers her thanks to him for saving her in the best way she knows. (It kind of strayed a little bit, shh. C;)

“All right, that’s enough for today,” Jon called from his spot on the creaking wooden stairs. “You all worked very hard today. Go and get some rest before supper is served.” The recruits all buzzed their excitement at being let off early, and filed into the armoury to put their padding and practice swords away. Jon thought back to when he had first arrived here, when he and Pyp and Grenn and all the others were always so relieved when practice was over. The names and faces changed over the years, but every one of them was exactly the same.

The boys all but dashed out of the armoury, heading to their chambers to quickly refresh themselves. Jon headed towards the small building- it was nothing more than a rickety shed, really- to clean up the mess the recruits had made in their haste. Jon was left alone in the courtyard, save for one other, a pretty young lady, smiling right at him. She followed him to the armoury, and the closer her steps got to him, the faster his heart started pumping. She caught the door with her hand before it shut, and she slid inside with grace, her skirts twirling around her.

“Good afternoon, Lord Commander,” she purred, smiling up at him. Her blue-grey eyes were alight with mischief, and he could have sworn that she batted her eyelashes.

“Afternoon, Lady Thenn,” he muttered, ignoring the way she subtly locked the door behind her. He began to slide fallen swords into the slots on the stands, and Alys scooped up an armful of practice armour, waddling over to the open storage chest and dumping them inside.

“Please, call me Alys.”

“Yes, my lady.” It felt _wrong_ , calling her by her given name, as if he was crossing some sort of line with her. She was Sigorn’s wife now, was a lady of status, and he could not forget that. She was one of the last Karstarks, just as he was one of the last Starks, but she was trueborn and had the name. Though he was Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, he was still a bastard.

“I’m very lucky,” she said conversationally, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You were gracious enough to help me, and I now have a kind, good-hearted husband.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Lady Thenn.”

“I’ve learnt a lot, too.” She leaned against the sword rack, watching him with her hand on her hip. “I’d like to think I’m _much_ more educated than before.”

He breathed out a laugh, and smiled at her, putting the last of the swords into their slots. “How so, my lady?”

“Well... I know more on wildling culture- it’s very interesting, you know.” He nodded his agreement; after his time spent with Ygritte and the others, he was half a wildling himself. “I’m learning how to run a keep- Sam was kind enough to leave me some books before he left.”

“That sounds like something Sam would do.”

He flinched as her cool fingers cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. Her thumb swiped over his bottom lip, the touch slow and intimate enough that he could already feel blood rushing to his cock. Her brow was slightly furrowed, but her eyes were clouding with lust; it was dark and heady and potent.

“I learnt how to please a man,” she husked, her voice thick with desire. He realized how close they were then; her hair tickled his neck and the light lavender perfume she wore floated by and made his head swim. He imagined what it would be like to kiss her, to peel her clothes off and feel her skin and taste her tongue on his. His fingers clenched and unclenched, and finally settled on her waist.

“I never got to thank you properly, for saving me.” Her hand was already trailing lower, leaving his cheek to skim over his neck and chest, making his muscles jump. She pulled him until he was pressed flush against her, pushing her into the sword rack with merely his weight. She mouthed at his neck, her mouth hot and wet as he trembled under her. “Let me thank you for saving me, Jon Snow.” Alys brought the heel of her palm to where his cock was straining against his breeches, and rubbed, rubbed so slowly that his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Wait,” he blurted out, wrapping his hand around her wrist, “stop. We can’t do this.” He wouldn’t let himself break his vows again. And besides, she was a married woman- one with a wildling husband who could surely rip him to shreds.

“Yes, we can,” the Karstark whispered, knotting her fingers in his curls. “I want you to...” Her lips slanted over his, and he groaned into her mouth instantly, tugging her closer to him. He had missed the touch of a woman, had often pretended that he didn’t long for it, when all he could think about at night as he tugged at his cock was the smooth skin and breathy sighs of a lady.

Alys tasted faintly of spiced wine, but he could also taste lemon and mint and cloves and spices. She certainly _had_ learnt a few things; she kissed him with expertise and fervour, knew exactly how and where to lick and bite and nip. He cupped her breasts through her gown, and she moaned quietly, tipping her head back as he kneaded her teats.

“And who taught _you_ how to do that, Jon Snow?” she inquired with a cheeky grin as she squeezed his hardness through his breeches.

“A wildling,” he answered, leaning into the touch.

Alys chuckled. “Perhaps we have more in common than we thought.” Then she was kissing him again, one hand sliding under his tunic as the other unlaced him.

She sunk to her knees and pulled his trousers and smallclothes down to his thighs. Her mouth was warm and welcoming around him, and he choked out a groan, bracing himself on the wall in front of him. She licked the leaking tip, sucking at the moisture beading there. Her mouth focused on the head of his cock, while her hand worked the shaft, gently stroking. He felt her put a finger into her mouth, and he thought nothing of it, but gasped in surprised when he felt it circling his entrance.

“Shh,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his hipbone, “don’t worry. You’ll like it, I promise.” He only nodded his head, whimpering as she slid her finger inside him. He could feel her smirking against him, even more so when she crooked her finger _just so_ , forcing him to bite his tongue bloody to keep in his moans. “That’s it, Jon,” she cooed, peppering kisses to his stomach.

“ _Gods_ , Alys,” he croaked, pumping his hips to match her steady rhythm. With the slight pressure of her mouth on his cock, timed with the matching thrusts of her finger, it wasn’t long before his release took hold of him; he shuddered and weakly cried out her name as she lapped up his seed.

By the time he opened his eyes, she was standing before him once more, her head slightly tilted to the side as a tiny smile took place on her full lips. She had fixed her hair and clothes already, and the only evidence of what they’d done was the slight flush to her cheeks. The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement as she took in the sight of his dishevelled form.

“I’ll see you at supper, Lord Commander.”

Alys headed to the door, her hand hovering over the wooden bar, but he curled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her towards him. She gasped, his chest pressed to her back and his hand splayed across her stomach. She trembled against him, even more so when his lips brushed her ear, rasping: “Get on the table, my lady. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered. The brunette sat on the edge of the table, hiking her skirts up around her waist. Jon licked his lips; her legs were clad in stockings but she wore no smallclothes, revealing the thatch of dark curls between her thighs.

He reached out and slowly unlaced the front of her gown, before pushing her corset down. Her breasts pebbled instantly in the cold air, and he sipped one of her nipples into his mouth, laving his tongue over the stiff peak. She moaned, nails lightly scratching at his scalp, as he repeated the same motion on her other breast. He knelt between her legs, nuzzling her thigh. He tugged her stockings off, leaving marks from his nails and bright red love-bites as he sucked at her smooth skin. Satisfied at the picture he’d painted, he leaned in and gently nibbled on the bud at the top of her sex; she flinched and mewled underneath him, arching her spine.

He licked her cunt from back to front, rolling the taste of her around in his mouth. She tasted faintly of salt, but there was also a certain heady sweetness to her that made him want to lap at her for hours, until his jaw burned and she was reduced to a shuddering, whimpering mess underneath him.

He hitched her leg over his shoulder to go even deeper, pushing up inside of her and feeling her wetness dripping down his chin. He cupped her ass to bring her closer, fingertips biting into the soft flesh. All of his senses were heightened; the sharp smell of metal and leather from the armoury hit him hard, mixed with sweat and sex and the scent of Alys’ arousal. Fire began tingling in his mouth, making him feel slightly numb, lighting up every nerve as he continued to kiss her cunt.

“ _Jon_!” she all but screamed, though he could hardly hear it over the _thump thump thump_ of his racing heart. Her juices flooded his mouth, but he continued to lick and suck, not willing to rest until she was pushing him away and begging for him to stop.

She lay down on the table, her toes curling on the edge. Jon was thankful for this new angle; he was able to go even deeper, thrusting his tongue in and out of her while his nose rubbed against her clit. He flicked his eyes up to look at Alys; her eyes were squeezed shut, her head thrown back in pleasure, and the hand that wasn’t knotted in his hair was on her breast, tweaking the nipple.

She came two more times before she was near sobbing, shaking from how sensitive she was. Jon fixed her dress and stockings, and helped her sit up, stroking her hair and dropping kisses to her neck and shoulders. Shyly, she cleaned his chin of her wetness, licking at his cheeks and jaw.

“Well,” she breathed, “Sigorn never taught me _that_.”

He grinned wolfishly. “I’m glad to have been of assistance.”

She slid off the table and stepped into her shoes. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she reached up to kiss him once more, nipping on his bottom lip. When she ended the embrace, she was smirking up at him.

“It appears that I am in your debt once again, Lord Commander.”     


End file.
